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appropriate situation would present itself.
It was peaceful in the house where the west side of the tree wrapped itself
around the dimensionally expanded den. Outside, past the neatly maintained
lawn and flowers, the Shortstub flowed tranquil and undisturbed to the south.
Father and son were alone, reading. Duncan had heard Jon-Tom speak of
something from his own world called television, but from his description of
it Buncan didn t see how it could better a book for good company and
entertainment. It was an evaluation Jon-Tom chose never to dispute.
His mother was finishing up in the kitchen as the door pealed for attention.
Buncan barely looked up from his reading as she entered the hall. As he
watched he envisioned her wielding the sword she kept in the back of the broom
closet instead of the dishcloth she was presently carrying. It was a difficult
image to sustain, no matter how many tales he recalled of her early life.
She leaned back to peer into the den. Dear, there s an owl to see you.
Jon-Tom put down the large book he d been browsing and rubbed his eyes. He
needed glasses, Buncan knew, but insisted on using imperfect vision spells
instead.
They needed constant adjustment.
Buncan headed for the kitchen on the pretext of getting something to eat.
Actually, he rose and moved because it offered a much better view of the front
door.
Clothahump s famulus Mulwit stood there, rustling his great wings as he spoke
to
Jon-Tom, who knelt on one knee to respond to the owl. Talea lingered nearby.
Buncan could overhear them without straining.
. . . but the Master declares that youuu have to come now, the famulus was
saying insistently.
It s awfully late, Buncan heard his father reply. And it s chilly out. Why
can t it wait until tomorrow?
Master Clothahump did not offer explanations, Mulwit hooted. He says for
youuu to come now. Dooo youuu want me tooo go back and tell him you re not
coming? If youuu dooo it will go hard on me.
If it s that urgent . . . Jon-Tom rose and turned to face Talea. You heard.
I ve got to go. I know it s late, but it seems to be important.
Talea stared up at him. You re not going off on some sort of silly quest or
something again, are you?
He put his hands on her shoulders. Now look: I told you when you got pregnant
that
I ve done with all that. I ve a family and a home to look after, a profitable
and respected profession, and they come first. The time when Mudge and I
traipsed all over the world getting into all sorts of trouble is history.
Just so long as you understand that, she responded. Because by all the
imbalances in the Aether, if that hardshell ropes you into some crazy
expedition I ll cut off your feet and hide them in the closet before I ll let
you go.
Now, love. Buncan heard the moist echo of a kiss. Clothahump just wants to
network with me. He glanced over his shoulder. Right, Mulwit?
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So far as I am permitted to know, Master Jon-Tom. With youuu, and one other.
Jon-Tom s brow furrowed. There s someone else involved?
Not here, not here! The agitated famulus was flapping his wings as he hopped
back and forth from one foot to the other. Already we have lingered tooo
long.
Just let me get my cloak. Jon-Tom hesitated at the open hall closet. Do you
think
I ll need my duar?
Wizardry was not spoken of, the famulus responded. Only talk.
Good. Jon-Tom swept the iridescent lizard-skin cloak around his shoulders,
bestowed another kiss upon Talea, and disappeared into the night in the
company of the anxious owl.
As his mother reentered the kitchen, Buncan feigned interest in a piece of
cake.
What was that all about?
Talea stood at the sink, gazing out the oval window in the direction of the
dark river.
Her demeanor was stiff. I ll tell you something, boy. If your father gets
himself sucked into something dangerous . . .
Didn t you used to do dangerous things, Mom?
She turned to him. That was different. When I was young I had to do certain
things to survive. She attacked the remnants of the innocent dinner dishes,
refusing as always to use the cleaning spells stocked in the cupboard under
the towels.
Is there some kind of problem? The indifference of his query was crafted
with admirable skill.
How the hell should I know? You think they tell me anything? Anyone would
think I
had no acquaintance with the mysteries of the Universe. I never did trust that
turtle completely.
You can t ever trust wizards, Mom. It s in their nature. They can t help it.
Every time your father answered one of that aged reptile s calls, it got him
into trouble.
Buncan set the cake aside, rose, and stood behind his much shorter mother,
resting his hands on her shoulders. Now, Mom. If Dad said he wasn t going to
get involved in anything, then I m sure he isn t. I just wonder what the rush
is all about.
Oh, who knows, she muttered irritably. Some mother wants to change the sex
of her unborn two days before it s due, or that fat Mrs. Twogg on the other
side of
Lynchbany is having digestive troubles again. Emergency! She assaulted the
stewpot with a vigor no mere spell could match.
Yeah, well, I ve pretty much had it, Mom. I m going on up to bed.
She glanced sideways at him. Kind of early, isn t it? He shrugged. I ve
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